


Lullabies for the Sickly

by LolaMontez



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Blue space cookies, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28968777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LolaMontez/pseuds/LolaMontez
Summary: The Mandalorian finds himself taking care of a sick Baby Yoda while remembering what it was like to be sick as child.
Kudos: 34





	Lullabies for the Sickly

**Author's Note:**

> Really not that long of a fic, just needed more fluff and the idea of Din singing just made me feel so happy!

“Okay kid,” Din said with a sigh as he finally turned away from the controls to look at the mess of blue still dribbling down the little green alien’s chin. “Let’s take a look.”

The small child gurgled in enjoyment as the Mandalorian swung him up and out of the seat so he could carefully take the brown robes off of his small charge. There was no doubt about it, these things were definitely going to need a good washing. A thought in the back of his mind reminded him that the chair would need to be cleaned as well but for now, his focus was on the child. 

“Where did you even get those?” 

The Mandalorin was grumbling to himself, completely aware that the child never spoke a word beyond emotive babbling and coos but unable to stop himself from surrounding the baby with proof that there really was something living beneath the silver mask. Thankfully, the kid never really seemed to mind. He was one of a few who never tried to get Din out from underneath the metal, to never demand to see his face.

True to form, the child looked up and cooed innocently but his dark eyes were twinkling with mischief and his ears perked up in enjoyment as though he were remembering something funny. The small hand wrapped around the packet of blue treats tightened its grip as though it could secure those away from potential thieves. 

“Do I even want to know?” Din asked carefully.

The kid just made a pleased sounding noise and titled his head up to give a small smile. It was honestly adorable until the moment that his ears twitched before bending downwards and the smile dropped off his face as he leaned forward and let loose another puddle of blue colored vomit onto Din’s shoes.

The mask covered his expression but it did nothing to disguise the groan that escaped him. Without a word, he snatched the packet from the kid’s tight grasp and though the small child made a noise of protest and offered a half-hearted reach for it, he didn’t put too much effort into the attempt and seemed to prefer the option of snuggling into the Mandalorian’s dark cape. Small grunts of pain kept escaping his mouth as Din began maneuvering out of the cabin and into the hull of his ship. 

“What to do with you.” Din mumbled as he did so, dropping off the cookies on a random spot to free his hand to rub the kid’s back in slow, small circles.

The handful of times he’d gotten sick as a child were hazy at best. The Mandalorians had done their best but he’d been found in a time of too much chaos. The Foundlings had been many and the adults had been few. They’d ensured he’d felt loved and protected in ways that still made him feel warm to this day but he’d taken to avoiding others when he’d found himself growing ill. He hadn’t wanted to seem like too much of a burden.

Or maybe it had been that the memory of a soft and warm hand on his cheek as his mother sang lullabies to calm him down when a fever grew too hot, had clashed too harshly with a leather glove as a metal helmet stared blankly down at him. The voices behind those masks had always been soft and caring, but none could compare to the lilt of his mother’s or the timbre of his father’s. And he’d missed them both constantly but the ache had always grown horribly with any oncoming illness. 

A soft mumble of protest dragged his thoughts away from memories still raw and painful no matter how great the passage of time and back to his empty ship with a small, undressed, sick child. The same kid who most likely had gotten himself sick by eating too many sweets before being dragged into a hurried escape. 

“You really shouldn’t eat so many of those things.” He said calmly.

A soft noise was grunted into his shoulder and he could see the ears turning before two large, black eyes glared up at him in protest for the chastisement over comfort. And choking on a laugh, Din shrugged his shoulders gently enough for the child to feel it without being moved too harshly. 

“I’m just saying.”

Another soft grunt and then the kid was back to burrowing his face in his shoulder.

Din chuckled softly before stepping into the makeshift room he’d made for when the kid needed sleep away from the lights and noises of a running ship. He wasn’t really planning on dropping the sickly kid off to deal with this alone, but he still felt six fingers tightening their grip as said child seemed to realize what part of the ship they were really on. Instead, he just held him tighter before sitting down, still letting his hand rub soothingly on the green back of the small thing.

A blanket was snatched up and gently wrapped around him so that he didn’t freeze and looking around in a panic, Din realized he couldn’t think of anything else to do, anything else to offer a sick child. But then the memories came back, tugging at him to remember the comfort of hands long gone, the warmth of brown eyes that would never open again. Without really being aware of it, Din leaned back and began to softly sing the lullaby he remembered even after so many years. 

The words came out like he remembered his mother singing but in a pitch that reminded him more of his father but the child didn’t seem to mind if he happy cooing and relaxed grip of suddenly calm fingers was anything to go by. Din let the song repeat again and again until the child’s breathing evened out in slumber and even then he let himself enjoy the familiarity of the song.


End file.
